


Friends and Enemies

by sparxwrites



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Angst, Bonding, Injury, Revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-03
Updated: 2014-11-03
Packaged: 2018-02-23 23:33:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2559869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparxwrites/pseuds/sparxwrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Undesirable number one, right?” Nano asks brightly, watching the man – she assumes he’s a man, although assumptions aren’t always wise in Minecraftia – pick himself up. He’s in a tangle of half-grown mandrake and fully mature cotton plants he’d either fallen into or tried to hide in, covered in mud down his front from the damp earth and favouring one leg. Probably hiding other injuries under the many folds of his clothes judging by the way he’s standing.</p>
<p>He’s the second most exciting thing that’s happened all week.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friends and Enemies

**Author's Note:**

> something i've had sitting around half-finished for a while now - and after the [most recent magic police](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g1fe9oceWP0), i finally worked out how i wanted to end it. mostly, though i just wanted rythian and nano interacting because reasons. maybe a second part coming at some point? i guess?

“Undesirable number one, right?” Nano asks brightly, watching the man – she assumes he’s a man, although assumptions aren’t always wise in Minecraftia – pick himself up. He’s in a tangle of half-grown mandrake and fully mature cotton plants he’d either fallen into or tried to hide in, covered in mud down his front from the damp earth and favouring one leg. Probably hiding other injuries under the many folds of his clothes judging by the way he’s standing.

He’s the second most exciting thing that’s happened all week.

At the sound of her voice, he starts – whirls clumsily round to face her, like his limbs aren’t working quite right, one muddied hand flying up with fingers curled in on themselves strangely. There’s a second’s pause, and then he glances at them, at the faint tan lines around the base of them where rings used to sit, and sighs.

“Just Rythian, thank you,” he says, voice shaky with a poor attempt at sounding calm, lowering his hand with a faintly defeated expression. He glances down, trying to brush some of the mud off his shirt and hissing frustration when all he does is smear it.

“Okay, Rythian.” She hops up onto the fence, perches on it and swings her legs back and forth – watching him like a hawk the whole while. Broken ribs, some kind of laceration to the thigh, several spell impacts on his back _… it’s amazing what you can find out when people don’t realise you’re watching them_ , she thinks, even as her lip curls a little in disgust.

Spell impacts on his _back_. He’d been running away, and they’d still chased after him as if they were hunting down a stray dog. She has to curl her hands into fists to stop them from shaking, purple flaring half-luminescent in anger before she gets herself under control.

Someone needs to stop the Magic Police. _Now._

After a second’s wait, where she half-hopes Rythian will ask for her name and he spectacularly fails to do so, she speaks again. “My name’s Nano,” she says. “I’ve heard of you – you’re that one with the castle that blew up, and your apprentice left you and then she nearly died, and Ridgedog had to drag you out of the Old World because you were the only one that refused to leave…”

She carefully leaves out what Lalna’s told her of him, on the basis that very little of it is remotely complimentary, and trails off at the Look he gives her. “Oh. Right.” Her sheepish smile doesn’t seem to soothe the frown she can see above the line of his scarf where it bisects his face. “Sorry. Bad memories?”

“You could say that.” There’s a dry, almost angry sort of sarcasm to Rythian’s voice, and he hisses again as he tugs his scarf up and his knuckles brush a slowly-blooming bruise hidden by the fabric. “I- hate this place. The magic here is so _strange_.” He looks around, eventually comes to let his gaze rest on Nano and the purple taint crawling across her face. “At least She’s hasn’t realised I’m here yet, I suppose.”

The words are more of a mutter than anything, and Nano suspects she wasn’t supposed to hear them. Regardless, she’s smart enough not to question further, instead slipping down from the fence to watch as he carefully picks his way out of her garden and onto the path. “Well, Rythian Enderborn,” she says, doesn’t miss the slight flinch at the use of his full name but pretends she does, “d’you want to come in for tea? As a _sorry you ended up half dead in my garden_ sort of thing.”

Rythian does something like a double-take, peers at her suspiciously above the line of his scarf. “I’m- looking, actually. For a friend.”

“You’re barely standing on two feet.” She doesn’t see much point in sugarcoating things – he’s swaying where he stands, looks exhausted and haggard even past the injuries he’s trying to hide. Wherever he’s been, times have obviously been hard on him even before the Magic Police

Minecraftia isn’t kind on wanderers. It punishes them for their inability to settle down and ensconce themselves in buildings and machines.

He pauses, _looks_ at her, and she smiles in what she hopes is at least a mildly comforting sort of way. It probably isn’t, though, not with the flux crawling over her skin and the tendency for her smiles to be edging more towards predatory than reassuring.

Whatever he sees on her face, though, evidently doesn’t scare him too badly, because he nods. “I… Thank you,” he says, and there’s reluctance in his voice but the gratitude seems genuine.

“Anyone who’s an enemy of the Magic Police is a friend of mine,” Nano says, curls her hands into fists at her sides – and something must show on her face, because he frowns at her, some of the distrust sneaking back into his eyes. “They took my teacher,” she explains, tight anger in every syllable.

Rythian blinks. “They actually caught someone?” he asks, sounding surprised. “I’m… amazed.”  
“They nearly managed to catch you!” she snaps, unhappy with the implication that it’s somehow partially Lalna’s fault he got captured. “And _I_ got away completely unscathed, so, y’know. They only got one out of two.”

For a second, Rythian just stares at her, one arm wound round his stomach and the other braced against the fence to keep him upright. “They need to pay,” he says eventually, heavily, and there’s an old sort of anger in his eyes. “Both of them. Sjin and _Lalna_.” He snarls under the mask, purple suddenly curling like luminescent smoke around his fingers.

“Yeah!” agrees Nano emphatically. She ignores the faint voice at the back of her mind that tells her Rythian has a grudge against Lalna, and might not be entirely discerning as to which one he takes it out on – her Lalna, or the Magic Police’s. It’ll be fine. She’ll deal with it when the problem arises. “So. Tea first, and then going to kick the Magic Police’s ass? How does that sound?”

The words jolt a soft bark of laughter from Rythian. He tightens his arm around his stomach afterwards, hisses in a breath, but he’s smiling. Or rather, she thinks he’s smiling, given it’s hard to tell through the scarf. “That sounds good to me.”


End file.
